So much for my IQ

People have told me I am smart. Smart is easy; I’d rather be wise. Today’s reading from Proverbs 9 says, “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding. For through me your days will be many, and years will be added to your life.”

Concepts of wisdom vary. The Greeks focused on the intellect; wisdom is similar to smart—smart enough to use your brains to live a good life. Some of the ancient peoples of the Middle East defined it as “to restrain from acting in an evil manner.”

The Old Testament has a different definition. As near as my Hebrew word books can tell me, the wisdom God wants is “exhibiting the character of God in the practical affairs of this life.” It is a “perfect blend of the revealed will of a holy God with the practical human experiences of life.” It is being like Jesus while I wash dishes, write letters, do the mending, and answer the phone.

I’m convicted already. My dishwasher died over a week ago and I’ve been grumbling about the time it takes to wash every glass, knife, fork and plastic storage container by hand. Jesus would not do that.

My mail still brings letters, and despite the ease of e-mail, I still love to receive them. However, the one I answered yesterday arrived in July. Jesus would not be rude like that.

I can procrastinate over mending too. That convicts but I’ve another problem behind the procrastination. I tend to avoid mending because I’m not sure I know how to fix it. I’m thinking Jesus would either find out, or just jump right in, asking for wisdom and tackling the job. After all, someone needs that frayed pair of jeans or that sweater with the hole in it. I’m inconsiderate of those needs when I let the mending pile up.

The telephone is an even bigger challenge. With call display, I don’t need to answer those 1-800 numbers, but telemarketers get around that. I may not be rude with my mouth, but my thoughts are very rude. Jesus would not do that.

My conclusion from this is that I might be smart enough to get the dishes clean, write a decent letter, mend a laddered sweater, and say just the right words to someone who cheerfully announces I’ve won a free trip to Barbados, but I’m not wise. If I were, I’d be joyfully scrubbing pots as unto the Lord, thoughtfully responding to people before they forgot what they wrote to me, gladly and skillfully fixing garments when I’m asked, and politely and patiently (at the very least) saying ‘no thanks’ to the people on the other end of the phone, considering what it must be like for them to be stuck with such a lousy way to make a living.

And one more thing. I lament about aging, but Proverbs 9 says it is a good thing, a gift from Him to those who seek His will for all things, even the ordinary things of life. As my son says, aging is better than the alternative.

If I were wise, I’d stop complaining about my aching bones in the morning, and about the dishwasher and the mending and the phone calls. Instead, I’d be grateful that I can get out of bed, thankful for dishes and clothes and a telephone, and grateful for my years of life. And I’d be more grateful that I know a wise and gracious God who not only patiently puts up with me, but wants to make me into a wise and gracious person. Hands down, wisdom beats smart.